


Shotgun Wedding

by Snickfic



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Intersex Loki (Marvel), Mpreg, Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-29 05:27:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15722913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snickfic/pseuds/Snickfic
Summary: The bridge was filled to the brim. It seemed all of Asgard, both longtime citizens and those newly naturalized, had fit themselves inside to watch the joining of Jotun and Valkyrie. Truly Loki lived in absurd times.





	Shotgun Wedding

**Author's Note:**

> I constantly go back and forth on Val's name, both in narration and as far as what the other characters call her. I will probably just keep waffling until the next time we see her in canon.
> 
> I love het mpreg so freaking much. I wish there were 5000 more fics of it in the MCU.
> 
> Written for the prompt "shotgun wedding."

“This truly isn’t necessary,” Loki said. He was loath to repeat himself, but this bore repeating.

Val snapped the final clasp shut on her boot. It was the first time Loki had seen the Valkyrie armor since what Bruce liked to refer to as D-Day, for obscure historical reasons Loki had managed to tune out. She straightened up and said, “You’re right. It isn’t.”

“But it will be good for morale,” he said, quoting Heimdall. _You’re the crown prince_ , he’d said, in calm, reasonable tones that would make any sane person want to kick something. _This is good news. It will do the people good to share in it._

“Yeah,” Val, approaching Loki. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t call it off.”

“It’ll save the child from being born a bastard,” he pointed out.

Val cupped a hand over his hip. “Somehow, I think the firstborn of Asgard’s crown prince will weather the scandal either way.”

Her palm rested near the gentle swell of his belly, just newly formed. He’d not yet determined how he felt about her touching him there.

Six weeks ago, Loki had become aware of—not even a presence, but rather a _potential_ , flickering uncertainly in his gut. Heimdall confirmed his horrified suspicions: a child. As best they could determine, it was a terrible misadventure in the side effects of Val’s Sakaar-sourced contraceptive on the Jotun reproductive system. Four weeks ago, Loki had come to the even more horrified conclusion that he wanted to keep it. He could have snuffed out that candle’s glow with a thought, but the prospect sickened him. He wanted to keep it. 

Which brought them to today: a celebration of the royal family’s good fortune and by extension the nation’s, even if that fortune did come by way of mishap and a Jotun import. 

“You want to call it off?” Val asked gently.

Loki bit back all the childish complaints he’d already voiced to her in the dark, where she could not see the embarrassment heating his face. _Everyone will look at me_ , as if he’d ever before in his life shied from attention. Now he sighed. “No. Let us have our wedding.”

“Still not a wedding.”

“Near enough,” he said, just to see her roll her eyes. It was growing a dearer sight than he’d let himself think about yet, although perhaps it was time he did, considering.

\--

The bridge was filled to the brim. It seemed all of Asgard, both longtime citizens and those newly naturalized, had fit themselves inside to watch the joining of Jotun and Valkyrie. Truly Loki lived in absurd times. Thor and Heimdall stood on the dais, awaiting Loki and Val’s approach. Thor was grinning broadly at them, utterly without dignity; even Heimdall seemed perilously near a smile. 

And beyond, yes, everyone was watching. But as Loki looked out on the crowd, just as many people met his eyes as stared at his belly. Many more were gazing instead at their Valkyrie, their one and only. He doubted half a dozen in this company could remember there ever being more.

He and Val took their positions on the dais, facing each other, hands clasped. Hers were hot in his. Heimdall spoke the words Val had written out for him, the Valkyries’ ceremony of joining. “Do you, Loki Odinson, swear yourself to this woman, to provide and care for her people and the issue of her womb as your own?”

_It’s what we did before going into battle. Sometimes if we were sweethearts, sometimes not. It’s not like marriage. It’s just—you watch out for one another in particular, and if one doesn’t return, the other sees to her people. Her children, if she had any. Most of us didn’t, though._

_But my only people are Thor or, well, don’t yet require care. And your people—_ He’d stopped, irritated with himself.

 _Maybe that’s the point, you know?_ she’d said in that careless tone, so familiar to him because of how often he’d used it himself. _Maybe I’d like to have some._

He’d stroked the back of her neck and not said a word.

“I swear,” Loki said.

“And do you, Brunnhilde Sigriddottir—” 

Loki’s eyes met Val’s, startled. She gazed steadily back.

“—swear yourself to this man, to provide and care for his people and the issue of his womb as your own?” 

Egalitarian, these Valkyrie handfasting vows. Also disconcertingly apropos, in Loki’s particular circumstance. Val had offered to change Loki’s for him, but really, what was the point of altering an ancient and entirely suitable phrasing only to protect Loki’s tender sensibilities?

He was aware that he would probably have felt differently a few years prior.

“I swear,” Val said, looking into Loki’s eyes.

“So it is done,” Heimdall said, at his gravest and most solemn. Which, in fairness, was only one shade graver than Heimdall at his most casual. “Worthy observers, witness this commitment made before you this day.”

The crowd, carefully primed in advance for this ceremony not a one had ever seen before, answered in unison, “We witness.” It was a tide of sound, the single many-throated voice of a nation. Or the beginnings of one, anyway. 

“And so it is witnessed,” Heimdall said.

Val squeezed Loki’s hands in hers, a fierce, determined grip that could shatter bone if she meant it to. Loki’s breath thickened in his throat; emotion swelled in his chest, utterly unexpected. Beyond them, the crowd roared in hearty approval. Loki looked at Val and kept on looking, his eyes grown suspiciously wet.

\--

Afterwards came the feast, of course. As the guests of honor, Loki and Val could take their seats at the king’s table and let their food come to them. Also to their table came the many, many people who wished to extend their congratulations. Loki had lost count of the interruptions when Thor circled the table and seated himself next to Loki, a large, smiling bulwark against the masses. “They are only pleased for you,” Thor said, though Loki had let no complaint pass his lips.

“Very,” Loki said.

Thor gave him a sharp look. “Did you not expect it? That was half the purpose of this, was it not?”

“I hadn’t really considered it. I—” 

Thor watched him carefully. He _listened_ carefully, these days. Loki was not yet used to it.

“I thought of it in the abstract, I suppose. It’s a celebration, therefore people rejoice. Not—not rejoice for me, specifically.”

Thor’s smile was fond and knowing, too, but he kept his commentary to himself. “And the other half of the purpose? Are you well pleased, brother?” Thor looked down the table to Val, deep in conversation with Banner. Likely the bard’s ideal of how one spent one’s wedding feast didn’t involve being ignored for a third party. 

Then again, Loki was currently eating left-handed because Val hadn’t let go of his right, so they were not entirely without romance, after all. “I am,” Loki said slowly, a little taken aback by the truth of it. “I am.”

[end]


End file.
